Promise to the Empty Sky
by KaGoMeS-kId-TrEaSuRe
Summary: Once upon a time, he made a promise he couldn't keep. Now, after a millennia of waiting, are their lingering feelings enough to keep them together? Ever wondered why Sebastian is so obsessed with Ciel's soul? Well, here you are. Sebaciel.
1. Damné

**AN Hello lovely people! This is an edited slightly better repost of Red Moon... if you care enough to know the more thorough explanation, please go to my profile and see for yourself :) Please read review if you like it! Thanks! **

**This is my second Kuro fan fiction, and I am very excited about it, so please no flames of hate. My little heart can't handle it xD But feedback would be nice.**

Disclaimer: With all my heart, I wish I did own Kuroshitsuji, but I don't. 

**Anyways, without further delay, here is Chapter One of _Promise to the Empty Sky!_**

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**_If angels are supposed to protect the weak from losing what is most important to them, then why was I not able to protect what is most important to me? _**

Once upon a time, long before time was considered a substance, angels dominated the sky with their ethereal presence. Dressed in flowing white robes that fluttered behind them even as they stood still, these beautiful creatures happily danced on top of the clouds. Their grand feathery wings of equal radiance trailed gracefully behind them, constantly outstretched; each set of wings unique to every individual. They soared through the heavens, looking down on earth and watching over humans, guarding them from any immediate harm. As the purest beings of all creation, they were constantly surrounded by bright lights of utter perfection.

When man was cast out of Eden, the human body was created, and with it, more imperfections. As punishment for their sins, humans were made mortal, living short lives before being reborn. They lived blissfully ignorant of their past sins, having to repeat their mistakes for all of eternity. Because of this, angels were assigned jobs to help humans through their lives. Some were made messengers or watchers, while others, the more powerful ones, became Guardians. Guardians were assigned a soul to guide until the body's time on earth was through.

When the body passed, other entities called Reapers collected the soul, escorting it to heaven to be assessed. If the soul was deemed ready to move on, it stayed in heaven and moulded itself into the form of a new angel. However, if the soul had not finished its mission on earth, committed a sin, or needed more time to grow, then it was sent back into a new body and placed under another angel's care. Since the previous angel was not able to help the soul reach its full potential, it merely meant that they were needed elsewhere. Rightfully so, the angel would be given a different soul to take care of, and together their new lives would begin.

Centuries passed, the cycle completing itself successfully, forming a sense of order in the universe. Angels, flawless beings as they were, continued to do their tedious jobs without a single complaint, and never questioned the unspoken rules set upon them. They placed all else above themselves, and were free from any sin. Any feelings they were given were returned to their creator, in love and devotion towards his divinity. Life for these creatures went on in splendid harmony without being tainted by evil, for it did not yet truly exist. Until...

**_"Promise you'll never leave me?"_**

While everyone else was content with their life, there was one angel who longingly watched the guardians, wanting to become one. This angel was a messenger of God, whose job was to inform the reapers when to collect the soul after the body died. Although he was more powerful than the majority of the guardians, he was bored of his daily routine. He had grown tired of going back and forth between realms, and having little contact with anybody else. Each day, he finished his duties and was left to wander around, looking for something to entertain him. With this, he pondered his existence, feeling as if there was something missing. He wasn't content with going on aimlessly; he wanted more out of his life. He wanted to feel what all the humans felt, to break free from the destiny assigned to him. So he dutifully completed his job day after endless day, hoping that someone would notice his need to do more.

Finally, after a millennium working obediently, he was granted his wish. He became a Guardian, and a soul was chosen for him.

That day, he watched in awe as a little, trembling soul slipped into a woman's womb. After only a few weeks, the woman's stomach grew larger and larger, and, within a few months, it was finally time to meet the soul's body, that the angel had been yearning to see. Using all of her strength in one final push, the woman cried in agony. There was a silent pause, and then another, softer cry cut through the air as a blood soaked baby was wrapped in warm linen blankets. **_Beautiful_**, he thought as he gazed at the creature. The baby smiled in its mother's arms, its cobalt eyes twinkling with happiness from under its eyelids. But this bliss was short lived, because in that moment, its mother's arms stiffened and turned cold. A nurse quickly took the infant, and the angel watched in sadness. The babe would never know the warmth of its mother. Its cries mixed with the sobs of its father, who wept in his hands and brushed away the straggling hair from his wife's face.

The baby grew into a child who, with its cerulean eyes and gentle smile, resembled its mother. Upon noticing the similarities, the father was struck by a turmoil of emotions. Torn between grief and anger, he refused to be near the child, and blamed it for the mother's death. "Filthy monster," he called it. The child loved its father despite his cruel treatment. It mourned the loss of its mother, craved for the affection of its father, and wallowed in the guilt for causing his unhappiness. Yet regardless of the unpleasant memories that plagued it shortly after birth, it held its head up high and smiled at the world. The angel watched the soul tentatively, reveling at its innocence, puzzled by how it was able to love through all the pain it bore.

When the body aged five years old, and other children were maliciously throwing stones at it, he swooped down from heaven to stop its tormentors. The child curled itself into a ball, bracing for the impact that never came, for each stone was deflected with the same amount of force, and the children ran away in fear. When the soul realized it was unharmed, it stood up, dusted its clothes off, and flashed a bright smile. "Thank you," looking up at the sky, it whispered in a hush tone, "thank you."

The angel had never received such earnest gratitude. His heart elated with joy, and he found himself smiling along with it. From then on, he knew he could never part with the child. Yes, the angel was very much drawn to this soul. And soon, his life revolved around it. Using his powers, he looked after it, making sure that no one would grieve its heart with any more sorrow. He felt the unfathomable urge to protect this little soul, to remove all the burdens that life seemed to give it.

He decided to stay on earth to watch over the soul, vowing never to let anything hurt it again. Eventually, the soul was able to sense the presence of something looking after it. Although it could not see its savior, it was grateful to it, and became accustomed to talking to the angel as if it was able to hear his replies. The angel found the little soul amusing and was surprised by his growing attachment to it. If he were forced to leave the soul for too long, he became sad and anxious. While it seemed strange to the other angels, the angel felt happiest when he was with the soul. He spent as much time as he could with it, but even then, he knew it was not enough.

"Promise you will never leave me?" it asked the angel one day. They were sitting quietly under a large oak tree, the summery breeze making the leaves rustle. On most days, the soul was left to do what it wanted, since no one paid it any mind. "I was awfully lonely before you came…" it said as it picked up a fallen leaf and rubbed the stem on the tips of its forefingers, making it twirl. "I have you now, but if you were to ever go, I know I would be lonely again so…," sighing, its voiced trailed at the end as if trying to suppress the urge to say something unnecessary. Suddenly it became more interested in the leaf then whoever it was talking to. "Promise me you'll never leave, okay?"

The angel gave the soul a wistful glanced. **_Even if I wanted to, I don't think I could,_** he thought, cocking his head to the side as if to say that the soul should know this fact by now. A minute passed before the child abruptly picked itself up and grinned. "Good. I never want you to leave, either," it giggled before skipping home. The angel watched the child before deciding to join it. As much as the soul was pleased to have someone who loved it, the angel was just as glad to have found his reason to live.

The soul became the most important thing to the angel, surpassing everything on the hierarchy of things he cared for. Without realizing it, he fell in love with it, a love that exceeded any feelings he had ever felt before. This love transcended everything, its pureness never fading. He adored every part of the beautiful soul, and learned to love every inch of the body which it resided in. Knowing his time with it was limited, he basked in the moments they shared together. He felt comfort in knowing that the soul would one day join him, but even that was not enough to ease the doubt in his mind. What if he were not successful in helping the soul? What if it were passed on to another angel who was not worthy of taking his place?

Many years passed and soon death loomed over the soul's body. The angel knew that the time they had left was running out, and he mourned the day, months before it came. He dreaded the thought of losing the soul, knowing that he would be nothing without it.

So, on the day the body was scheduled to die, he followed his daily routine and walked by its side, hoping they wouldn't have to say goodbye. Defying fate was difficult, and there are some things you cannot evade. There were rules against tampering with destiny, and the angel was aware that he could be severely punished for trying, but to extend his time with the soul even for the briefest second was enough to convince him to do so.

That day, the father sent the soul off to town to buy something at the market. He told it to come back quickly or else he wouldn't let it inside the house. The soul ran eagerly to town, hoping to finally please its father. It took a shortcut through the woods, following an overgrown pathway. The angel braced himself for an attack that was bound to come. He guided the soul and made sure it stayed on the path where it was safe. But destiny had a strange way of binding you, entangling you in the threads of every decision you make. This change was not enough to stop death's plans; in fact, it tightened loose ends and turned the wheel, prompting death to take it sooner. Suddenly, a pack of hungry wild dogs found them, and attacked the unsuspecting soul.

Without hesitating, the angel wrapped his arms around the soul, embracing it with his celestial glow. The dogs lunged forward, bearing their fangs, ready to rip the soul apart, only to be thrown aside by a thrust of the angel's mighty wings. Astonished by the mysterious force, the dogs cowered in fear, sensing the burning anger that emitted from the angel. They slowly backed away, wanting to flee from their vicious attack. By now however, the angel was blinded by rage. The thought of its body being tarnished by these vile animals was too much for him to bear. If he were to let the beasts free, they would only come back to harm the little soul once more. **_No_**, he thought. He could not let that happen again. He promised to protect it. Unthinkingly he raised a hand, and, with unwavering strength, killed the dogs with a single strike: prolonging the body's life. The dogs fell, jerking about in an ungraceful fashion.

After committing his first violent act, he turned to see the soul, knowing that this would be the last time they would be together. He looked at it lovingly, before wiping his bloody hands and placing them on either side of its face, holding it. He never wanted to let go of this creature, and wished to stay in this moment forever. Oh, how happy he was that it came out unscathed, but oh, how he lamented the end of their lives with one another.

"Thank you," the soul said with tear stained eyes, "thank you for saving me once again." Then, wiping its face it smiled. "Shall we head home now?" It waited a moment for a reply that would never come, before cheerfully heading home with the thought that the angel was following behind.

In that instant, his heart broke. The soul's beaming face was the final memory etched into his mind as he watched it walk away. "Goodbye my precious little soul. Perhaps we'll meet again someday," he murmured, feeling his own tears falling down. A flash of blinding light surrounded the angel, forcefully lifting him to the sky. Standing before the pearly Gates of Heaven, he paused for a moment, thinking about something the soul said to him many years ago.

_"Promise you will never leave me?"_

**_I'm sorry, my love, but I must. _**

He bowed down before his creator who sat upon his throne, and other subjects of heaven who floated on the stands, beseeching pardon for his actions. God's fury over his betrayal was too great for him to be simply forgiven. The angels who gathered jeered, their screams echoing through the sky.

"Traitor! Who do you think you are, trying to change the course of a life that God has chosen?" The chorus of their voices blended into one, as God raised his hand to silence them. But just as judgment was about to be passed on the angel, a swarm of other angels flew in. The beat of their wings overpowered everything as they flew towards the Throne. Other angels raved at the sight. Circling the sky, the new arrivals waited patiently as they watched their leader, Lucifer land in front of the Creator. One by one, they did the same. Lucifer walked towards the throne, his followers kneeling as he passed by.

There was something different between these angels and the ones in the stands. While most angels have shimmering auras above them, these ones were dulled by a cloudy light. Their wispy wings lost their brilliance, looking almost tattered in the glistening sun. God looked down on the all the angels and in his booming voice said,

"Lucifer, it appears you have decided upon something. Tell me, do you plan to overthrow me?" Lucifer smirked, bowed at him, and without answering he walked closer and closer towards the throne. When he reached the top, he stood beside God, and turned towards all the angels present. The angels in the stands looked at him with questioning stares, but he paid no attention to them.

"Come, my fellow beloveds, follow me. I will create a new world in which He cannot make you do anything, where we can live our lives freely," he spoke with authoritative ease. There was persuasiveness in his tone that lured the angels in, forcing them to listen to what he had to say, even if they did not want to. A unified gasp from the angels in the stands was heard, and the once silent sky erupted in chatter.

"A new world? What was wrong with this one?"

"Should we go?" They whispered terrified, "Will it be okay?"

"I promise that this in new world where I will rule, you will never be forced to do something you do not want to do. You will be able to feel the things that humans also feel... emotions like love and hate. If you wish to leave, please step forward," Lucifer called, extending his arms towards the crowed. At first, no one dared to move. Then, with some hesitation, a few made their way to him. Some looked with disgust at even the thought of betraying God, regarding the others who quickly changed sides with disapprovingly glares. Soon there was more hustle of movements until both sides of those staying and going were almost even. A hush fell over heaven, as God looked at the faces of all his angels.

"If this is what you want, then you are forbidden to enter Heaven again," He replied angrily. Suddenly, He conjured a thick black mist that circled around Lucifer's angels. The tense air was filled with panic as the wind began to pick up, creating a black swirl underneath the standing angels. Without warning, it doubled in size and turned into a gaping hole in the cloud. A bolt of lightning flashed before their eyes as the angels fell through the hole into a never ending abyss of darkness. They were stripped of their angel wings, and trapped in a free fall of God's scorn. The cloud opened up above the earth, and angels fell from the sky like rain, landing all over the world. They collided with the earth with such a force that left them unable to move for days. When they awoke from the fall they knew that they were no longer angels. Their hatred made them turn their backs on God, and with that, a new entity formed its existence. Demons were born.

Unable to escape from the chaos, our angel was mistakenly swept away by the crowd of fallen angels. Into the obscurity he fell, unable to save himself from the wrath of God. Like others, he woke up to see that the ground had shaped around his body upon impact of his fall. His body felt heavy, as if he had been fast asleep for a very long time. Grunting, he sat upright, only to find that his mind was still clouded with sleep. He tried to remember simple things, like who he was and how he had arrived here, but for the life of him, he could hardly recall anything. Yet, a faint, lingering memory nagged him when he closed his eyes. While he was confused about many things, there was one question that he was most desperate to answer. In fact, the moment he regained consciousness, the very first thought that crossed his mind was: **_Where was it?_**


	2. Reunion

**_A.N. because if my calculations are correct, today is the day they first met… _****_Also, at the rate I am going, I should be able to update every two weeks. Hope you won't mind the wait._**

**_Please read and review and enjoy chapter 2! (haha see what I did there? It rhymed? No? …okay...)_**

**_I don't own Kuro… sadly :( _**

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Monotonous decades dragged on into incessant centuries, each day rolling into the next like the never-ending tick of a clock. My surroundings had changed rapidly throughout the years as I walked aimlessly on the streets of a new town, a new country, a new world that brought forth more opportunities than the last. Yet I stood there, unchanging, watching the equally tired moon wax and wane, the sun rise and fall, and the stars flicker in the sky until we were the only constants left. Soon the little voice that had called to me even during sleep faded, almost as if it never truly existed in the first place. For the foggy memories of my beginnings blurred and distorted into fleeting images that weakened over time, and if I did not try hard enough to remember, the moments were swiftly forgotten.

What was point of living if there wasn't anything left to satisfy you? If mortality was just a notion, and time does not affect you, then what was there to look forward to? When you are stuck in a perennial life of greed, with nothing to compensate for the amount of time still left in purgatory, then what is it that this "life" really have to offer? I was to watch the world wither away into nothing, to stand on the sidelines and observe events that had little significance to me unfold. I searched for reasons, a purpose for my time on earth. But it was unwarranted. The truth was that there wasn't a point for my existence. I was simply there because no one had cause to dispose of me.

This life made it impossible to find something that could entertain me. I was to serve a sentence that would end indefinitely, and finding valuable ways to pass the time rarely ever came. A thirst grew within me, one that could only be quenched by consuming souls. And so, I binged on soul after soul, until I no longer found pleasure in killing.

There was a time I lived off their screams, their inner fears, the way the life drained slowly from their eyes, pupils dilating. I preyed on those filled with false confidence, an electrifying thrill shooting through me as I followed them home, concealed by the shadows. When their once proud features groveled, begging me to let them live, the same exhilarating pulse urged me to kill, beckoned me to rip their throats apart. The shadowy hands they so desperately ran from, made way to their chest. Fingers slipped into the cadaver's newly formed crevice, taking hold of their heart: squeezing it until the last drop of crimson, the final, fluttering heartbeat- body stiffening, cold, limp- a sign of their struggle's end.

Yet over time that sensation, the excitement in possessing so much power, weakened. This life became so dull, so repetitive, so _boring_, that I found myself wishing for it to end. So I did the only thing I felt entitled to pass the time. I consumed more than my fill of souls, each day collecting far more than yesterday, and more than the day before that, until a mountain pile of corpses fell to my feet, until I could not recall how long it had been since I had last felt _anything_.

A careless part of me, however small, longed for one of many souls to distract me. I yearned for one of them to stir within me, or give me something meaningful to fill the void of endless time. But souls were weak creatures, their fleeting protests silenced immediately. And much to my disappointment, none of them satisfied me for long. So I slaughtered them, one after the other, the same way a butcher slaughtered livestock for food. I desired something intangible, something lost, something incorporeal and so far from my grasp.

A monster, I was often called. But I did not consider the things I did as awful as they played out to be. My actions only mirrored the same corruption found all over the world. Wherever I looked, humanity found more ways to hurt one another. How I spent my time may seem unforgivable, but they were certainly not worse than what humans did when no one else was looking. At least I did not feign innocence. No, I did not look the other way and pretend as if I did not feel pleasure in what I saw. I knew what I was and I only acted accordingly. Humans were perfectly capable of spreading their own vices around, even without me.

Over time I found that I was not the only one jaded by this immortal life. Eventually demons began forming 'contracts' with humans out of boredom. A human was to summon a demon whether consciously or not, and together they made a vow to serve one another. The demon will grant its wish, and in return, once the contract was fulfilled, the human will offer the only thing they have left. In the end, the demon will consume their soul, preventing them from ever reaching heaven, and leading them down a path of eternal damnation. Should both accept the arrangement, the demon will brand the human with an insignia so that the human can never escape its inevitable death. The more prominently the mark was placed on the body, the more each side was entitled to each other. While the terms of the contract differed from each individual, it was in fact up to the demon how long he allowed his little game to last. These agreements between humans and demons were rather common, but rarely did the result of the wish turn out in favour of the human.

I too, was no exception. From the moment I made my first contract, I knew that we were creatures abandoned by light. There was no complicated twist in our being. If we did not feast on human souls, we would gradually shrivel away into oblivion. We were forced to violate the beloved humans made by God, but were unable to stop our selves from doing otherwise. There was no punishment befitting for us in Heaven, and so we were forbidden to enter. We were fabricated from dust, true creatures thrown together in darkness. Trapped in this ever decaying world, we were pushed aside, neglected. We would never come to know the joys that heaven promised, and we feared the trials waiting for us in hell. There was no hope for someone like me. If I were given a choice, I would not choose this purgatory for myself. I was one of many forsaken. And so, to regain what little dignity I had before this discovery, I did what all else did. I created contracts with these equally hopeless beings.

Like a puppet master, I skillfully maneuvering my way into a human's life. I quickly gained their trust and deceived them with my sweet, hollow words. Once a covenant was made, I played the role I was given until I was frustrated, and quickly granted their wish. There was brief joy in seeing the betrayal in their eyes, as they realized I had given them a split second of happiness, only to drag them off into the darkest pits of hell. What pitiful creatures, pleading for me to let them live. It was like they had completely forgotten that they would die eventually, regardless of my interference. Most of the time I found keeping up a façade and taking the time to complete the contract was more trouble than it was worth. Associating with a human was extremely vexing indeed. Nevertheless, a soul filled with accomplishment was unquestionably more delicious than a soul only soaked with fear. So I fed on the desires of plenty, and for a while, that was enough for me.

But as time progressed, the requests echoed ones from the past until I could no longer differentiate one soul from the other. It was the same command to avenge a death that happened so long ago, or force love on another individual. More often than not, they bid me of my own affections. Their needy and tedious pleas of 'grant me immortality', or 'make me rich' drained me of my patience. Their way of exacting revenge was not even interesting enough for me to hear out their entire wish. Moreover, each soul turned out to be as plain as the last, not quite filling my hunger, and leaving me to crave so much more. Because of this, I always felt like something was missing. The little voice nudging at the back of my mind seemed to know what it was, but my interest in it was lost. I had grown old of caring, and I pacified that voice, not even knowing how to reach it. I was a demon. Amongst humans, I could manipulate their lives as I pleased. I could not feel anymore than I already did, nor did I want to.

I wanted nothing more than this life to end, but I feared what waited for me in the depths of hell.

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Nightfall came, and I decided that I didn't have the patience to wait for a quality soul to appear. The taste I had come to acquire was rarely encountered, so I constantly settled for whatever was before me.

There was a delicate specimen of a lady standing before me. Her long russet hair framed her face as she moved to pick up a fallen metal basin, and dust her hands off on her threadbare apron. She wiped the glistening sweat off her face before turning to enter her shop through a back door. I decided she would do, and waited for her to disappear from the sight of the casual observer. She hummed to herself in a high pitched voice, moving sideways to grasp the doorknob, innocent of the situation she happened to walk right into. I reached out towards her, my hands ghostly wrapping themselves around her thin neck, pulling her towards me, when suddenly, I was summoned.

Materializing into a large cement room devoid of windows, the stale, carnal scents attacked my senses. Light was provided by several lit candles on their separate candelabras that circled the ground. Cracked walls dripping with unknown liquids enclosed a group of people dressed in long, flowing black robes. They covered their faces with cheap renaissance masks, crowding around an odd metal cage. I smelled something similar to burnt flesh, and I turned in disgust at the accumulation of tiny, lifeless creatures they had carelessly thrown into a heap. In the farthest corner, their rotting, still fleshy bodies had attracted blowfly maggots, slowly eating their way out.

'**_How degrading_**,' I thought. Somehow I found myself in the middle of a devil worshipping cult. The smell of sweat and blood hovered in the musty air, moving along with the sounds of shuffling feet. I was surprised they didn't choke on it, it seemed too thick to be tolerable. The crowd's beady eyes darted back and forth when they saw me come into view. As if to mock me further with their attire, they continued to chant their incantations under their breath, waving their hands from side to side. _  
_  
"It showed up! It really showed up!" They cheered in disbelief. To celebrate my coming, they applauded enthusiastically, until a portly man pushed his way through the crowd. As he continued hobbling over in my direction, huffing as he did so, he knocked others blocking his path. He took no notice of them as he made his way to me, desperately trying to gain my attention. When he stood before the rest, he arrogantly pointed his finger at me and commanded,

"Demon, grant me eternal life and wealth! I'll give you anyth-"

"No," I snapped, interrupting him before he could continue, "It wasn't you."

I scanned the room in search of my true master, the one who called upon me_. '_**_You're not the one either… was it…? Ah, I see… it's _****this****_ one_**_…'_ I grinned. As my eyes fell upon him, something stirred from me. This could prove to be entertaining, very entertaining indeed.

Nestled tightly in the middle of the large, rusted cage, he sat quietly. His tiny hands hugged his legs to his frame. Even with the commotion of my arrival, he did not flinch. I stepped closer to the cage, slightly curious to meet the sort of person who could unconsciously summon a demon. He was a little thing who hadn't been properly fed in a while, with slick, blue-grey hair that stuck out untidily. His porcelain skin was covered with yellowing bruises that overlapped deep purple ones. What was left of his clothing hung loosely on him, covering a branded mark that seared into the small of his back. Still bloody and new, it stained the rags with dried blood and sweat. His calloused hands were covered in grime, and shallow gashes stretched from every inch of his body. The look on his face was detached and unemotional, but his cobalt eyes burned deeply into mine as he watched me approach. While he was without a doubt a child, his features still soft and frail, his captivating eyes said otherwise.

"My, my…what a small master you are," I said as he stood up to face me, desperately clinging onto the bars. Out of all people, I was called here by a little boy; a meek, filthy child who could barely hold his own weight. He trembled slightly, tears brimming in his eyes. Lifting his head to look at me properly, he smiled and tears flowed freely.

_'_**_Oh my... is he honestly crying?_**_'_ I thought. But as I gazed into his azure eyes, I realized he was not crying out of sadness. No, this one was overjoyed by the belief that someone was finally here to save him. He believe I was his salvation. I have met with others like him before. Did he plead for his pain to end until he realized his prayers will never be heard? Did he feel lost and empty when he understood that he was trapped in this cage until they decided to kill him? Was that enough to make him curse his faith and asked for a devil's help?

"You have summoned me. This fact will not change for eternity. However, it is up to you to decide which path to take. Will you make a contract with a demon, and have your wish come true?" My voice unwittingly softened, hoping he would calm down. How unusual. Here we were, a demon lowering his voice to comfort a boy. Without commanding me to, I had changed myself for him. This did not happen often.

Despite his physical state, I could not take my eyes off of this scrawny, insignificant human. Had he been one living on the streets, I would have taken no interest in him. Nonetheless, I was drawn to him without being conscious of it, enthralled by every word he had yet to speak. He called me in midst of all his unbearable emotions. A child forsaken, forgotten by all. He was too young to have been exposed to the real world, and yet his lifeless eyes promised me that he has seen the direst cruelty that one could ever witness.

He did not need a moment to consider what such a deal entailed. He was feverishly nodding his head even before I had finished speaking. An unnatural sound came from his throat, and the tears he had previously shed vanished from his face. His eyes widened and his lips parted slightly as he struggled to regain his voice. How pitiable. It seemed that the only time he was ever heard from was when he was crying for help. He had completely forgotten how to converse like a normal person. Tightening his grip on the bars, he glared into at me and cleared his throat.

"Demon!" He abruptly shouted, his voice resonating in the air. "I will make a deal with you!"

What a strange boy. Although I had given him the opportunity to forget about making a deal, without hesitation he charged blindly into the darkness and deliberately turned his back on the light. Not many humans could so easily agree to such a contract with the same unwavering resolve. Through his words I was given a glimpse of his tortured soul. So beautiful and refined, it shimmered brightly within him. While the edges were slightly darkened and dirtied by hatred, there was an undeniable bright light, pure and unharmed that lay in the center. Even without being cultivated properly, his soul would be wonderful to eat. Oh, I could already taste it as I imagined it trickling down my…yes, yes. You will be my new master, no matter how small you are. I have waited a millennia to meet you and yet… I couldn't fight off the feeling that there was something wrong. Why did I feel a jab at my chest when I have finally caught you?

"Then let us mark our bodies with the contract's seal. The more visible the seal is, the more control you have over me. Where would you like me to place it?"

"It doesn't matter! Anywhere is fine, as long as I have more power more than anyone else!" he said recklessly, the look of pure determination on his face. What an imprudent child. Was he planning on his greed to be the death of him? It didn't matter to me how he died, as long as I could have his soul in the end. So I extended my arm, the palm of my hand forcefully grabbing the right side of his head. He trashed under me, shaking violently as an invisible pair of shackles clasped onto our wrists, intertwining us together.

"Well then, I shall put the seal on that big eye of yours, filled with hatred and despair," I said, smiling at his gasps of pain. The shackles clamped on tighter as I made the seal, further entangling our fates with each other. I released his head and moved my hand to see the mark created. A pair of newly mismatched eyes stared back at me, as the embedded insignia flashed on his right eye.

Yes…He was mine.

"What is your name?" I asked him.

"My name is Ciel… Ciel Phantomhive, who will inherit the house of Earl Phantomhive." His pride oozed from his words. I couldn't help but chuckle at his self-proclaimed title. How amusing to see a little boy playing Earl. Should I take shape of someone more suitable to be in service of a person like him? Lifting my arms out to my side, a black tail coat and double breasted vest emerged from thin air. Along with it was the rest of my uniform: a white button-up blouse, black tie and trousers, and a pair of pallid cotton gloves. I admired my new form for a while, pleased by my attire.

"Give me any order, my little lord," I said teasingly, lowering my head to meet his fixed, glowering stare. Clenching his jaw, he gave me an impish smile. Shooting me one last, cold glance, the lines of the insignia started to glow in his eye, and he gave me his first order.

"Kill them… kill them all! Show them no mercy for disgracing the Phantomhive name!" He screamed, eyes burning with rage. I smiled before turning to the crowd who had witnessed the formation of our contract. Their terrified looks beginning to excite me.

"Yes, master," I said politely, I took a step closer to the crowd.

"My master has ordered me to kill all of you… it's nothing personal, I promise…" I murmured condescendingly. Then, before any of them could even cry out for help, I charged towards them. They were too slow to move away in time, and my fists made contact, blood spurting on the walls and cold floor. Their bodies dropped to the ground with a loud, uncanny thud. I turned back to look at my new master who was unfazed by the massacre that had just taken place.

Instead of cowering away from me, he motioned behind the cage and whispered, "Fire."


	3. Chance Encounter

**_A.N. Because my exams are done for the day, and I'm procrastinating because I don't want to study math. _**

**_Disclaimer: Heavily influenced by the manga, no copyright intended. I don't own Kuroshitsuji. I do however, own a Sebastian plush :$_**

**_Please read and review my lovely people! Also, Ciel might be a little OOC, but I figure since this is before we meet him in the manga, that all will be forgiven? _**

* * *

Before long I realized that the candles from earlier had toppled over, engulfing the basement in flames. Sensing the danger, I immediately grabbed the boy and brought him to safety. Once we were out, I gently put him down, allowing him to see what he had done. We watched the fire scorch the building, leaving only charred remains behind. He did not flinch at the catastrophe he created. Instead, he gazed at it intently, staring off into something that was no longer there; yearning for things that didn't exist. He watched as the flames licked everything it touched, turning it black and dead as the night that surrounded us. When it seemed like he had enough, he turned and charged into the night with some unforeseen force, before suddenly stopping.

"Is something the matter?" I asked calmly. Maybe the reality of the events had finally gotten to him, and he was going into shock. It was common for humans to need time to absorb certain proceedings. Should I show him mercy and end his life before he realized the extent of his actions? I waited patiently as he closed his eyes, remaining silent. Then, shaking his head in defeat, he said,

"I don't know… I don't know which way is home. I never went out much without my…" _Parents_. The word was lost on his lips. After giving it thought, he did look too young to be on his own. Were his parents out searching for him, or were they the reason he found himself in such a predicament?

"I don't even know where we are right now. In any case, I have a relative at the Royal Hospital, so take me there first," he demanded.

"Certainly. Shall we start walking then?" I suggested. Without waiting for a reply, I headed in the direction of the hospital. What kind of sheltered life did this boy have? He looked like a child lost in a maze: utterly confused. With the colossal number of paths open to him, he was desperately searching for one that could lead him to the past he cherished. In this exposed new world, was he able to see things as they truly were? Did he envy the children who sat in their homes, ignorant of the hideous things lurking outside? I suppose it couldn't be helped. I could only speculate what happened to him in that dungeon.

Children used as a sacrifice to summon a demon. Only humans could conceive a notion like that. I continued walking in front of him, leaving enough space between us to make him feel at ease. He followed me with his tiny legs, running out of breath in attempt to catch up.

"Wait, demon," he breathed. I stopped when I felt a little hand tugging at my tail coat. "What is your name?" he asked. How very interesting. Although he witnessed me killing a crowd of people without hesitation, he was not afraid of me. Most surrendered themselves to me after seeing my power, pleading for their lives even if they made the contract with me. Perhaps he was under the impression that I wouldn't kill him?

"Whatever my master wishes to call me," I said, smiling politely.

"Then from now on your name shall be… Sebastian…" he replied in a soft, yet authoritative tone that suited him. This child didn't seem too difficult to handle. Maybe taking care of him wouldn't be too much of a hassle. Arrogant as he may be, greedy and demanding, he lacked the same kind of vileness that other humans had. In fact, his frame was so meek that I questioned how he was able to last in a place like that. The more I looked at him, the more it seemed a miracle he was still alive. Ah, I see. He was alive, but not all here. His eyes were still shrouded by lingering fear, broken by the pain he chose to conceal from me. Whatever happened to him in there must have stripped him of any hope in anything. He was able to summon a demon with his hatred, after all.

"Oh? Alright then, call me Sebastian. Was that the name of your previous butler?"

"No…" he paused, "It was the name of my dog." His eyes widened, searching my face for a reaction. Was he mocking me? I take it back. What a disagreeable child. Did he think that by naming me after a dog, he could very well treat me like one? How insolent, how degrading, how…amusing that he felt no respect for me. While I knew I should be annoyed and reprimand him for his cheeky remark, something stopped me. I would have killed him right there if not for the fact that a small part of me really didn't wish to.

He was a child, and yet the way he acted until this very moment had made me think otherwise. Nonetheless, I was reminded by the very childlike way which he tried to challenge me. The fact that he had enough nerve to do so, only made him more endearing. If I were to stay with him, I would certainly receive a sufficient meal out of his soul. That was a given. In addition, if his character persists to be as unpredictable as this night, he may prove to be more fascinating than the rest of them. Why ever would I not take this opportunity to waste some time? After all, the span of his life is a mere second compared to mine. I will be finished with and have forgotten him in less time than I will spend with him. So I plastered a smile onto my face and ignored him for the rest of the way there.

The nature of our contract boiled down to three absolute rules. First, I was to protect him until he obtained his revenge. This did not seem too difficult for he was just a child after all. How much trouble could a boy his age get into? Second, I was to obey his orders unconditionally. While I agreed to this, there were always ways around an order. Loopholes, so to speak. Finally, I could never lie to him. In any case, lying was such a distasteful habit. Of course I wouldn't lie the same way _humans_ do. However to do all this and stay in the role of his very human butler, would not be an easy feat.

At the hospital, his Aunt Dalles, or Madam Red as others called her, attacked him with kisses and a tight embrace. She sobbed quietly while thanking god, and me, for saving the boy. That was how he explained my mysterious presence. He vaguely described his kidnapping, informing authorities that three men came in the middle of the night, knocked him out with a fireplace shovel, and brought him to another man whose face he never saw. He heard them refer to each other as Raphael, Uriel, and Ezra, but they too, hid behind masks. While transporting him to another unknown location, he managed to escape. Once he was free, he ran as far away as he could. He made it to the closest settlement, where he had collapsed from hunger, and where I found him clinging on to dear life. We met by a chance encounter, and I just happened to be a butler who was looking for a master to serve. I tended to his wounds, cleaned him up, and fed him until he was well enough to stand on his own. He hired me on the spot as his head butler and told me to take him to the hospital. He continued by disclaiming the need to speak about what had happened to him in the month of his absence. It was 'unimportant,' he mumbled when his aunt asked.

"Oh Ciel, I think it would be best if you come home with me…at least until everything repaired," she tried to reason with the boy, but he would have none of it.

"I want to see… I want to see for myself what's left. I'll be fine. Sebastian will be with me," he added, nodding towards me. Madam Red eyed me suspiciously, before glancing at her watch. She was a doctor, and a good one at that. There were several pressing appointments lined up for her, but the boy was all she could think about. For someone of her standing to neglect her responsibilities was something I would never understand. However, this was normal for a human. Someone she thought was lost forever had returned, alive and well. Shortly after reuniting, leaving him would be simply unbearable. But she knew the trouble it would cause her if she stayed with the boy instead of looking after her other patients. So she gave him one last squeeze before lending us a carriage, and sending us off with a tearful goodbye.

As we pulled up to the mansion, I noted the damages caused by fire. Everything had been burned so badly that it was hard to imagine the manor was once a place fit for an Earl. Only an ornate marble staircase stood against the remnants of ivory statues. It seemed as if it rained earlier, since a mud puddle formed, swallowing up pieces of glass on the ground. Wood, uneven and jagged at the sides, stuck out in stray areas, but the frame of the house was somehow still standing. The culprits appeared to have stolen the more expensive items before setting everything ablaze, making the house as empty as the boy left behind. What a shock it must of been for him to see his home in ruins, to witness the life he had slip between his fingers because he was too weak to stop it. Yet this was not enough to make him cry. He had barely glanced at the house before he abruptly turned and ran in to the forest that bordered the mansion.

I immediately followed him. If this was too much for him to bear, he may try to take his own life, and I must be there to stop him before he did the deed. Though I could easily outrun him, I kept my distance in case he was decidedly running from me. To my surprise, his pace slackened after a minute of running. He followed a hidden path that led deeper into the thicket of trees. It appeared he was heading to an unpleasant destination, because he started to trudge towards tall black gates. With difficulty, he pried open the entrance, and hesitantly walked in.

Laying in the center of a grassy area was a granite angel statue. Its wings were pointed downward, halfway unfurled. Oddly enough, its head was facing towards the sky, hands covering its face as if it were weeping. Around it were rows upon rows of headstones, marking a family graveyard. The boy stopped at a large monument, looking down sadly at the names inscribed on it. Brushing his fingers against one engraved with '_Ciel Phantomhive_', he began to trace the letters one by one. He chuckled darkly to himself and I wondered what he was thinking. Then, he forced himself to look at the two stones beside his, wincing when he read the names. _Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive_, they said.

Upon seeing it, his knees buckled, and he slumped to the ground. His shoulders hunched forward, hands passively at his side, as he fixed his gaze on the names etched into stone. I could hear his heartbeat increase with each breath he took. Perhaps my presence stopped him, but in the moment he knew he could never have his parents back, he refrained from crying. Instead, he buried his face in his hands, unable to move.

"Mother, father," he whispered sadly. That was the first and last time I ever heard him refer to them in that manner.

I felt like I was intruding on private business, so I decided to use this time to rebuild the mansion. Starting with the entrance, I made my way through the house, producing fully painted walls out of air. With a simple flick of my hand, I repaired everything to its original condition. In truth, it didn't take much time to completely refurbish everything. But to give the boy a chance to lament over his loss, I took my time. Yes, he may be free from that cage, but those memories will continue to haunt him every moment he lived. He is forever cursed by his own past. Never will he escape the world he has finally awoken to, or get back what he has lost. And so, I made sure to recreate the manor exactly as it was, so that he could regain at least one pleasant memory from his past. While he could never forget his suffering, maybe he could at least have this.

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This boy was nothing short of a brat. He refused help from anyone and pushed away whoever tried. He was impatient, spoiled, and enjoyed making a fool out of me. A part of his day was spent solely on pushing me to my limits. However, he disliked it when I teased back, his short temper often causing flustered outbursts. While his wit and exceptionable ability to outsmart his opponent could surpass even that of an adult, he refused to be taught any more than he already knew. He was arrogant and, perhaps because of me, believed there was nothing in the world he could not accomplish. There were times when I considered wringing the brat's neck until his eyes came out of his head. In fact, our first week together brought me to my boiling point. Yet the first time I found myself ready to slaughter the child, he had unknowingly stopped me.

"Why don't you just eat me?" he asked after a day of demanding my constant attention. He was lying flat on his stomach across his oversized bed, reading a book too advanced for someone his age to understand. "You're a demon aren't you? I saw what you did there, in that place. I know you can kill me if you really wanted, and yet you chose not to. Why is that?" He looked up from the book and studied me when he said,

"I am nothing more than a human, but still... I don't want to die quite yet. So let me have my revenge before you kill me. I am giving you my soul regardless. What would I have any need for it, where I'm going?"

Those careless words had ended any momentary hostility I felt towards him. Never have I met someone who so calmly accepted his own death. He does not fear me. No, he knows his death is inevitable. He knows that he cannot live forever because his life was cut short the moment our contract was made. It was fascinating to see a child, so young and helpless, suddenly say profound things. This was the master I chose. He has the soul I have been yearning for. Taking time to mold it into a masterpiece will be its own reward once I am able to consume his soul. Our encounter was not an accident.

From then on, I dedicated every part of myself to him. Until I no longer had interest in following him, or he had outlived his purpose, I will obey his every order. I will lend him my power, becoming his pawn until the contract is fulfilled. Only then shall I devour it.

And so our lives together began. It was a fool's journey fated to end, much too soon, with this little one's death.

Our master and servant act took time to perfect. I had to learn many things I did not previously know about humans. As his butler I had to pay attention to each minuscule detail and work out every piece of his life for him. I was in charge of all the repetitive and quite human tasks I had never paid attention to before; from the temperature of his bath that night, to his schedule for the next day, down to the colour of the final tied ribbon, and the faint dose of cologne used that mixed in with his own scent. His dietary needs were to be monitored as he ate a full meal three times a day, which was consistently accompanied by a different flavour of tea, an entirely new set of china, and which starred a new dish he had never had the pleasure of tasting before. The clothes he wore were to be in style, pressed and ironed. His hair was to be combed and cut every so often. A bath was to be drawn at least once a day, and his teeth were to be brushed and flossed and rinsed with water, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. What made it more difficult was that he ordered me to act 'more human' while completing these tasks. I was told not to rely completely on my powers, and to at least pretend I was doing everything the way a human would.

"People will become suspicious if you continue making things appear out of nowhere," he warned. So I obeyed his wishes, hoping he would be satisfied with just that. He wasn't. When I stopped using my demonic abilities to prepare his meals, he refused to eat anything I made, complaining about how terrible it tasted. But since demons ate souls, our senses differed greatly from humans. I tried using and following recipes precisely, but even then he was not satisfied by it. So I decided to educate myself on everything about these strange creatures. It took many tries, testing the concoction of the day on my master, until I was somehow able to understand the amount of spices humans found appealing, or herbs to make a flavourful tea. Each day, I grew more accustom to the role I was playing, and learned to appreciate the boy as a great source of entertainment.

But unlike me, many were unhappy that my master was still alive. For a full year, I remember the countless times I unintentionally woke him in the middle of the night, disposing of the cowards hired to kill him. Full grown men assembled with their knives and guns, intending to hurt an unarmed, and fully unconscious, boy. While human lives still meant nothing to me, the extent they took to get rid of a defenseless child disgusted me. How were such filthy creatures able to live? I killed them without hesitation, and the strange...shall I say, desire to protect the boy grew within me. As they cried out, acknowledging their death, he would wake up and command me to appear before him. He chastised me for waking him up and told me to dispose of them more quietly.

Yet even when there were no evil beings hiding about in the night, and we were the only living things for miles and miles away, his dreadful nightmares continued to plague him in his sleep. Their violent images caused him to stir and wake up in a cold sweat.

On nights like those, I was summoned to his room where I would find his thick, white comforter tightly wrapped around him. I could see his body quivering even underneath the sheets, and hear his heart beating erratically. He refused to allow me to go near him; to touch or comfort him in any way. Yet when I tried to dismiss myself, he immediately demanded me to stay until he fell asleep. His nightmares somehow scared him more than the thought of a demon hovering at the foot of his bed. The trust he had placed in me was foolish. There was absolutely nothing standing in the way of breaking the contract, and devouring his soul…but I never felt the need to take that opportunity. Only in those dark hours will I admit that I did not harbor any of those feelings. As he lay there so vulnerable, I realized how much I really did not mind serving the boy.

In those mornings when he woke up to find me standing there, he would go about his day acting as if the night had never happened. Likewise, I promptly followed his lead and did the same. I spent the remainder of the day completing my own busy schedule: preparing meals, cleaning every inch of the house, and pruning the delicate rosebushes in the garden. While these moments were usually part of the day when I was not required to be with him, I always sensed his presence trailing behind. Every time I looked, I would find him there: pretending to be engaged in an entirely different activity, when only moments ago I felt his eyes locked on me. I could hear his little footsteps following me into every room I had business in. At first it irritated me. Surely, he must have something better he could do in between classes and training than follow me around.

He would casually shadow me until my work was done, and upon finishing, would then order me to do something for him. I couldn't fathom why he had grown so attached to me, and so I asked him his reasons for tagging along. He denied knowing what I was talking about, but continued to stay by my side. It was then I knew that in some twisted way, he felt safer around me. His pride prohibited him to ever admitting to it, and that only made him so much more amusing.

One rather peaceful evening after a similar day, I was sitting at my night table, working away at the schedule for next week. I was planning to hire new servants to 'help out' around the mansion. It was important to protect this boy until the contract ended, and while I didn't really need the help, it would be odd if we proceeded like this for too long. If I was the only servant in this household, more suspicions would arise, and that would not do well for his reputation. As an earl of his standing, he should have many people tending to his every need. A solitary butler, no matter how capable, would not suffice. At least with other servants around, I could also tend to other, more important work while they handled intruders. All in all, it was a fine idea to welcome newcomers.

As I was completing other unrelated tasks and looking over several letters that needed sending by morning, I heard my master stirring in his room. During the last couple of weeks, he was having more nightmares than usual, and calling me in his sleep. Truth be told, I did not mind going to him and staying by his side. However, I did not want my nightly visits to become a habit. It would be troublesome if he expected me to stay with him every night instead of preparing for the next day. That, and since he had never given me a direct order, I was still unsure how powerful his hold on me was.

It was important for me to know how absolute his command was, and the only way I would know would be to deliberately disobey him, and force him to make an order.

This night was no different from the rest. He was dreaming of things that made his blood run cold. Thrashing around on his bed, he unconsciously called out to me. This, I knew, was not an order, and I could easily ignore it. I assumed that if I paid no attention to his cries, he would quickly wake up and calm himself down. After a while, I heard his whimpering cease. Alarmed, I listened carefully, despite having intention of leaving my desk until he officially summoned me. Minutes passed, and I could faintly hear him sit up in his bed.

"Sebastian?" I heard him call. The sense of urgency was there, but it could also be ignored. He had still not forcefully ordered me to appear. I needed to know the ways around our contract, so I carried on with my work and took no notice of him. More time transpired and all I heard was his labored breathing. I was relieved to think he had already mollified himself, but disappointed that my plan revealed nothing of our contract. I continued working on his schedule for the next day, thinking he had already fallen back asleep. It was the sound of his feather-light footsteps, and creak of my door hinge that told me I was wrong.

"Sebastian?" he called in a soft voice, so unlike the one he normally used. His cobalt eyes were peaking hesitantly through the crack of the door. "I called you and you didn't… why didn't you come?"

"My, my, young master. What is it you are doing here?" I asked, ignoring his question. I put my pen flat on the desk, and turned to face him. By now he had entered the room and was looking around to see if I had changed anything from when he first escorted me here. His eyes fell to the floor and I could see he was trying to come up with an excuse for his actions. Suddenly, he tore his gaze from ground and his eyes met mine. With the same determination I remembered when I first stumbled upon him, he nonchalantly said,

"I am here because I want revenge on those who tore my family apart. I want to make them suffer the same pain and humiliation I felt during that month. I am here to determine if my life had any meaning before it was lost. Even if it didn't, at least then would I know… Then I will be able to pass on knowing that I was worth something. I don't know what I did to deserve what happened to me, but I know that I am not the same, blissful person I was before. No, I am the new Ciel Phantomhive. I have grown immensely from that day. I have forgotten how to do things like laugh and smile, nor would I do it if I could. I do not want this life. I did not choose it, but I came back. I came back for myself. I am here for revenge. That is all."

I watched as his soul shimmered during his speech. His words echoed as I absorbed what he thought my question meant. What a truly interesting person my master was. It was then I knew that any lingering resentment for this boy had vanished, and I no longer wanted to kill him. I quickly composed myself and stood up from my desk. He was staring at me in a calm demeanor, waiting for a reply. I forcefully turned him around, and, placing a hand on his lower back, gently pushed him out of the room.

"Master, if you don't mind… Next time you need me, a simple 'Sebastian, come' would suffice. Besides, I don't think it's fitting for the Head of the house to visit his butler so late at night," I smiled. He glanced up at me before giving me a curt nod. I led him back to his room, tucked him under the covers and took my regular position by his bed. He tossed around for a while, before quickly falling asleep. I hesitantly took my leave, unwilling to part with my master just yet. But I had work to do, and I would accomplish nothing if I stayed here any longer. So I blew out the candles and left as silently as I could, making sure not to disturb him.

Sometimes I thought about the situation I had gotten myself into. A ruthless and uncaring demon such as myself, was now the loyal servant of a brat who depended on me to do everything for him. While I tended to many things in his life, he was able to sit and do whatever he pleased, thinking I would not kill him the second I could. However, what I hadn't realized was how much I was bound to this creature. This little being that, despite the very essence of my nature, has lowered me down to the status of a butler. Yet I complied with his every wish, adapted to this new lifestyle, and even found myself _not_ disliking this life.

Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that something about my master was truly remarkable, and the life he had orchestrated for me was, without a doubt, not by chance.


	4. Riddle

**_AN: So I am back! I wasn't planning to add this into the story but, you I figured this episode was when I started shipping them, and a tribute was definitely necessary! Thanks so much to those who reviewed so far, it means the world to me! Please enjoy! P.S. hope you catch the season II blooper reel reference ;) This is heavily influenced by the anime, so, sorry if it sounds repetitive._**

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, because if I did, these two would be together by now. 

**Please R&R! Thanks!**

**_Chapter 4: Riddle_**

"Another prostitute has been found gruesomely murdered in White Chapel. The violence exerted on the bodies has caused the general public to refer to the killer as _Jack the Ripper,_" my master said, expressionless as always. "The Queen is concerned for the safety of her people, and has asked me to put an end to these crimes."

I handed him a cup of Earl Grey and proceeded in offering the same hospitality to his guests. Madam Red and Lau, an associate of the young master, were crowded around him in the drawing room, trying to convince him that the authorities could handle the case. I stepped around Madam Red's butler, Grelle Sutcliff, who was unskillfully dusting the bookshelf. Or should I say, merely rearranging the dust on said bookshelf.

"As usual, my darling little nephew is caught in such...unpleasant business," Madam Red sighed as she accepted the beverage. She eyed the cup, rotating it between her thumb and forefingers, and gave him an anxious glance. Master took no notice of her crestfallen features. Instead, he calmly took a sip of his own tea, and announced that he was heading into town to see the crime scene for himself.

There was a muffled chuckle as Lau stood up and said, "Are you sure about that, little Earl? You are a child after all, and a scene like that can make even a grown men's blood run cold."

"I am the head of the Phantomhive household, here in service of her Majesty the Queen. Don't ask me foolish questions," master replied, trying to mask the annoyance from his voice. I gave the master a sharp nod, commending his effort to shrug off Lau's insult in a dignified way.

Nearly three years had passed before I had established a permanent position beside my master. During this time, I helped him rebuild his family's reputation and allowed his business to flourish. I taught him how to weasel his way back into the aristocratic world he was born into, teaching him customs of noblemen. His status, despite being a child, elevated, allowing him power and bringing him closer to the revenge he sought. He became a respectable person, regaining his ties to the Royal family, and earning the title of the Queen's Guard dog.

I became his very capable butler, one fitting for the Phantomhive name. We only parted if necessary, and I grew accustomed to being at his side. My duties involved working around his life in such a way that I did not interfere or stand out. The desire to possess him grew as he did, increasing each moment I spent with him. I stood patiently by his side, eagerly awaiting the day I would finally be able to consume it. I was foolish to believe that was all I was after.

A few days ago, my master received a letter from the Queen about the Ripper case. Upon request of Her Majesty, we headed to his London mansion to receive more information on the case. He willingly travelled to London, despite the fact that carriage rides left him feeling rather under the weather. As her Guard Dog, he was in charge of solving any crimes linked with underground criminal activity; a job which essentially entailed cleaning up any unsavoury situations, and removing any ties that the Royal family had with those events.

After going to town and falling short of any leads, we headed to the Undertaker's shop to acquire more information. Undertaker was another affiliate of the young master, who owned the only funeral parlor in England. All cadavers were examined in his shop before their burial service. It was a small, dingy place with coffins lining the walls, and jars of unknown remains filling the unkempt shelves. A musty smell of incense bathed the room, making it feel stuffier than it should.

As we entered the shop, I noticed the owner's absence. Surely he wasn't trying to frighten the young master again.

"Hehehee..." a menacing voice cut through the eeriness of the room. There was creak, a rusty door opening, as our eccentric host emerged from an empty coffin, startling our companions. "I was expecting you. My lord, it's lovely to see you again...tell me, do I finally have the pleasure of fitting you for one of me coffins today?" he asked, inching closer to the boy.

Master rolled his eyes, unfazed by the Undertaker's theatrics. "No, you know very well why I'm here..." Undertaker brushed a long, boney finger against the boy's mouth, silencing him. An unsettling feeling came upon me, wanting to sweep his hand away, but I disregarded it.

"No need to say, I'm already aware, very aware why you're here. You want some information about the pile of dead bodies, am I right? Yes, my recent customers have been coming in with missing pieces…" he trailed, "Well, you know what I seek in return."

"Ah, I see," Lau said, as he composed himself from the earlier shock of meeting Undertaker. "So this parlor is only your cover business? How much is it for information?"

"I have no need for the Queen's coins. There is only one thing I want from you. Please my Lord," he said, tuning back to my master. He purposely stepped closer and cupped the boy's face in his hands, making the earl uncomfortable with the lack of space between them. "Give it to me, and I'll tell you anything!" He begged energetically, "Give me the extraordinary gift of true laughter! Just one joke, and all the information is yours!"

I tried to stifle a chuckle when I heard the master muttered "lunatic".

And so, the master's companions each took their turn to get a laugh out of the Undertaker. After Lau's rather nonsensical riddle, Madam Red's pointless gossip, and Grelle's timid pun, the Undertaker grew tired and taped their mouths shut. Motioning to my master, he looked at him imploringly.

"Now, my Lord. It looks like you're the only one left," he said. Master shifted his feet, a nervous tick of his whenever he was caught off guard. His brows furrowed and I could tell he was recalling every joke he had ever heard. The Earl's scanned the room, avoiding the pressure filled gazes. We waited patiently for him to speak, and when nothing came out, I checked the time. According to my pocket watch, it was half-past noon. We were already behind schedule. It was best to quickly end this, and get on with our day.

I cleared my throat. "It can't be helped," I said.

"Sebastian?" master replied, confused that I was doing something without his order.

"Everyone, please wait outside. No matter what happens, do not attempt to listen to this," I warned as I forced them outside the door. The Undertaker's sense of humour was very odd indeed, his tastes fell under the dry category. His thirst for laughter could be quelled by everyday tricks and talk. He found his own way to amuse himself through the conversations or rhymes I provided. There was a perfect quip I had planned to tell, but I certainly did not want my master to hear such profanity.

"A dirty limerick. There once was a woman named Drew, who filled her vi-"

"It's good the Earl has someone who is willing go to such extremes for him," Undertaker interrupted, and while his silver hair covered his eyes, I could feel him scrutinizing me carefully. "Do tell me, Butler: why is a demon serving a boy?"

"You are aware of my circumstance? As I thought...you are also not from this world. Another reaper, like that Sutcliff fellow, aren't you?" It didn't shock me the tiniest bit that the Undertaker was not human. It seemed my master had a knack of allowing otherworldly beings into his life.

"My, my, Butler. Tell me, why do all this for a child? I've heard that it's been nearly three years, and you have yet to feast on a single soul. You have chosen not to take any of the souls which have presented themselves to you. What exactly does he mean to you?" he questioned, grin widening.

"The only soul I need is my young master's. No one else's." I realized how accurate this well-rehearsed response was. After years with him, I decided that no other soul could compare to his. No matter how hungry I was, how weak I would become if I did not consume another, it did not matter to me. Only his extraordinary soul would do. I did not need any other, not until his was a part of me. What other reason would there be?

"You say that, and yet... hehehe... it's clear that you too, are oblivious to the answer. Riddle me this, what is your true incentive for staying by his side this long. It isn't natural, even for the most patient of demons. Normally after creating such a contract, the demon gets bored and leaves their master. They go off and create contracts with another poor soul, waiting for their original master to die. You are unlike the others who speed up the process of their death before quickly gobbling them up. You, Butler, refuse to, " He paused, a broad smile forming on his face, "Could it be that even you don't know why you feel such...loyalty to the boy? Hehehe... Oh, Butler, you're looking almost flustered now... tell me, heheh...did I hit... hehehehe... a nerve? AHAHAHHAHAHAH!" he laughed uncontrollably at an expression I've never made before: confusion.

"Well, I have succeeded in making you laugh, but I'm afraid I have had quite enough of this. My master is waiting." I promptly composed myself, plastering a smile across my face. Upon opening the door, I said, "Please do come back in now. I believe he'll tell us all the things we need to know."

"Oh my... Hehehe… I've now seen the face of ultimate bliss ..." I heard the Undertaker snicker.

My master eyed me cautiously as he walked in. Suddenly, something stirred within my chest; hunger, I presumed. The others sat down, and the Undertaker started to discuss the details of each death.

"...missing ovaries...must have some degree of medical knowledge..."

While I was expected to pay attention, my mind seemed to slip in and out of the conversation. What was the Undertaker planning, asking me such meaningless questions?

_'Why do all this for a boy?'_

I had never asked myself why I stayed with the young master. Truth be told, I never followed an individual for so long. The longest contract I had previously, lasted a mere six months before I became bored of waiting. Maybe my master was so entertaining to watch that I found myself unable to look away, or end the contract. Or perhaps it was only because the life he had given me, while challenging and rhythmic at times, was much more interesting than any of the lives I had before. This one had more meaning, and I was almost thankful to him for that. Still there was something about this contract that made it different from most. True, I craved his soul more than anything, so much so that I was willing myself to starve for it, and exert a rare amount of patience towards him. And I suppose I was acting slightly differently from other demons, but his soul was so unlike any I had ever encountered before, and I was unwilling to let it go so easily.

OoxXxoO

"Explain to me why I am dressed like this?" My master demanded, flustered by his attire. His face reddened with embarrassment as he tugged on the finely crafted wig adorning his head. We were following our only lead in the Ripper case. Our suspect, the Viscount Druitt, was throwing the final, lavish party of the season. In order to swiftly infiltrate the house in search of evidence, the master went undercover as Madam Red's niece. Since the Viscount was easily taken by "any pretty thing in a dress" as Madam Red put it, the master was wearing a one of a kind, pink, frilly evening gown tailored specifically for him. Surprisingly the garments fit him perfectly. He looked…endearing…if I were so bold to say.

His mortified expression made it all the more enjoyable to tease him. So, while searching for the Viscount, and hiding from Lady Elizabeth, the young master's fiancée, I decided to add to his humiliation by offering my hand, and dancing the Waltz with him. Although I was one hell of a dancer, even I could not stop him from constantly stepping on my toes. In spite of it, I was still enjoying myself much more than I should. The same, hungry feeling from earlier came, but I ignored it. Now was not the time to get distracted by trifling details. We danced until the master was out of breath, and I thought it somewhat unfortunate how quickly exhausted he became.

When the master was finally able to speak to the Viscount, I created a distraction for the guests. I took my eye off him for a second, providing him with enough time to question the Viscount, but when I turned around, I found that they were both gone. How could he, in such a short amount of time, get himself into so much trouble?

Knowing that he was useless without me, I rushed to his aid, perturbed by the fact that he was so defenseless. Tracking his scent to the basement of a grand, abandoned building, I was bemused to find that he was, once again, trapped in a cage similar to the one when we first met. When I saw that he was left unharmed, I breathed a sigh of relief. He was unconscious, but at least he wasn't in any immediate danger. I decided to wait for an order. After all, it was his fault for being so vulnerable to these situations. When will he finally learn his lesson?

I sat back and watched the as the master was auctioned off in the black market. I sensed him regain consciousness and discern what had happened to him. He commanded me to save him, and I quickly rendered everyone unconscious. When all was said and done, he ordered me to bring him back to his London home, where I helped him take off his feminine garments, all the while chuckling at the lengths he would go to, to serve the Queen. I give him a well-deserved bath, and allowed him to rest. He slept quite peacefully that night, thinking it was over, only to be furious the next morning to find the Ripper still at large.

xXoOoXx

I believed the master knew that the Viscount Druitt was not the real murderer, but, for the sake of saving what little sanity he had left, he refused to admit it to himself. Regardless of the fact I knew who the culprits were from the start, I did not wish to tell him. Was it odd that I wanted to protect him from the knowledge of it?

He must be the one to decide whether to help the killer, or incarcerate them. I was indifferent to his decision, but I would not go against him if his will was to turn a blind eye, and protect what was dear to him. To lose someone else close to him would probably be too much to bear. In fact, I was rather certain that was what he chose to do.

However, my master was not weak in that sense. He was determined to follow the path of justice, to obey the Queen's order, knowing it would mean losing his aunt. He knew that the killer would strike again, and so we loitered about the town, waiting for the chance to catch him in the act. A woman's shriek shattered any hope of allowing the boy to live in the finite peace he had found. We rushed to the voices, and my master saw the frightful scene for himself. I quickly covered his eyes, thinking that it was too much for him to handle. I proved to be right, as the contents of his stomach found their way to the ground. But my master was not weak in _that_ sense, and he persisted on seeing it. He pulled away from me, feasting his eyes on the blood stained walls, the dismembered corpse, and coming face to face with _Jack the Ripper_: Madam Red and her reaper butler, Grelle Sutcliff.

If he was surprised by the revelation, he concealed it well, because without giving it a second thought, he ordered me to end them.

As Grelle began attacking me with his death scythe, I kept my eye on my master, who hadn't moved an inch since Madam Red confessed to her crimes. Even though I was caught up in my own battle with Grelle, I couldn't help but get distracted, annoyed by the boy who had been rendered motionless. He was just standing there, allowing Madam Red's deceitful words enter his head. All of this would be over, were he to draw his gun and kill his aunt. I dodge the attacks of Grelle's chainsaw, but as I glanced over to check on the master, Grelle took the opportunity to strike me from above. I caught the blade between my hands just in time, but I found myself trapped. In the corner of my eye, I saw that my young master also had his back against the wall. Madam Red raised her hand, knife aimed towards her nephew's heart.

"MASTER!" I inadvertently yelled, and before she was able to hurt him, I pushed my way past Grelle, allowing his scythe to graze my arm. Instantaneously I was behind Madam Red, ready to end her life, when the master cried out,

"Stop it, Sebastian! Don't kill her!" I froze, and retracted my arm.

"Ohh how sweet you are Bassy. Really, what a prince, sacrificing your own poor limb for that little boy," Grelle scoffed. I thought to myself how foolish I was to worry. Even if I didn't run to the earl's rescue, more likely than not, he would be still be fine. He was equipped with a gun after all, and it was obvious that Madam Red was reluctant to kill him. She was having an argument within herself, one leading her to the brink of insanity.

"On the other hand, Madam, you disappoint me. Hurry up and kill the brat already," Grelle chided.

Madam Red looked at my master, conflicted by the memories and love they shared.

"I can't..." she pleaded, unable to take her eyes off the boy, "I can't kill him... I can't kill their beloved son... this dear boy... this is my..."

Grelle immediately revved up his chainsaw, and without a pause, thrusted it into Madam Red's chest.

"Too late for that," he said uncaringly. "What use are you to me if you are just another woman?"

Madam Red dropped to the alley floor, exhaling her final breath as her cinematic records began to play. I had never seen a human's record before, and after witnessing it now, felt as if I was invading her privacy. In them, I was able to see her past...as well as bits and pieces of my master's. I thought I was the only one who could get a rise out of the boy, but looking through her memories and seeing what a carefree child he once was…while he could never revert to the same person, maybe he will be able to show me that expression once again. And without noticing it sooner, I realized that was all I wanted.

My master knelt down, and affectionately closed Madam's eyes.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he whispered nonchalantly. "I told you to put an end to Jack the Ripper. It's not over yet, there is one still left. Stop standing there and kill him!"

"Certainly," I smiled. How very like my master to be so calm, even amidst all the commotion.

Grelle lunged towards me, but I was quick enough to leap out of the way.

"He just saw his aunt die before his eyes, and yet he's so aloof and apathetic, just like a reaper!" he commended. I evaded his strikes, aiming for his face as I kicked him.

"My, my... you seem to care a lot about the boy. You know, I am kind of jealous! Say, Bassy, why not leave the little brat and live happily ever after with me?" he grinned.

After avoiding another fatal blow, I realized how tired I was of these reapers and their all knowing attitudes. Now was about the right time to end this. After all, my master had just experienced a very troubling affair, and it was far past his bedtime.

"There was one technique that I absolutely did not want to use...but I have no other choice," I sighed, delicately removing the tailcoat master had purchased for me earlier. It was a fairly expensive one, and I was disappointed that it was already beyond repair.

"So at last you're gonna fight me seriously. Shall we send the curtain down with the next blow? I'll miss you terribly, but perhaps we'll meet again... farewell." Grelle ran towards me, recklessly swinging his chainsaw as I jumped into the air, throwing my tailcoat at him. I laughed internally as my plan succeeded. The fabric of my coat was caught between the teeth of his chainsaw, disabling it. As Grelle tried to untangle the mess, I kicked him in the face repeatedly until he was begging me to stop. Becoming rather bored of this fight, I decided to end him using his prized reaper scythe. Holding him down I went in for the kill, only to be abruptly interrupted by another reaper.

William T. Spears, he called himself.

He offered his apologies for Grelle's destructive behaviour. He reluctantly bowed his head in respect and started walking away. Dragging Grelle behind, they quickly disappeared into the night. When I could no longer sense either of their presence, I turned back to my master.

"I apologize, my Lord, I let one half of Jack the Ripper escape." I was sincerely sorry that I was not able to execute my own personal revenge on that insolent reaper.

"It's fine," he shrugged, waving me off. He was still crouched down and staring at the body. I noticed he had covered it with his own cloak, and was shivering from being exposed to the elements. I allowed myself to place my palm against his cheek, feeling the numbness of the bitten skin.

"Master, you are chilled to the bone. Let's get you home, and I'll whip you up some warm milk and honey," I offered.

"Alright," was his meek reply.

* * *

After his aunt's funeral, I wasn't sure how to comfort the boy. He just seemed so lost, so unlike himself. He was as cold as he was before, but it seemed as if his resolve had been shaken. It disappointed me that he could be so easily affected by death. This was not the sort of master I wanted to serve. While I was under the impression that he regretted not being able to save his aunt, he denied it, even going so far to say that it was her own fault she died. He explained that he stopped me from killing her because he knew that she did not have the audacity to kill him. Madam Red made a mistake that costed her, her life; a minuscule error that he would be sure never to make. Because, if he did, it would mean the end to our little game.

"You shall never betray me. You shall never leave my side, no matter what. That is an order!" he declared with a haughty smirk. Likewise, I found myself eager to obey. I was wrong to doubt him. After all, I have chosen an exceptional master for myself.

He returned to his normal self after that. Still, I was wary of him. To stop him from sulking , I spoiled him for the next few days. I allowed him to eat the sweets he wanted, carried out all his paper work for him, and excused him from the dance lessons he found so vexing. However, he did not need such generous treatment. His brief mourning period for his beloved aunt was concerning, but he turned down the need to discuss the matter further, so I too, let it go.

And then, soon after, I understood what was so different. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't the young master who had changed. Maybe...

_What does exactly does he mean to you? _

Maybe, it was me.


	5. Recollection

**_AN So before I begin this chapter, I'd like to point out the wonderfully drawn cover image! It's by Satiiiva and if you'd like to see more art by her, look her up on deviantART since the link I tried to post on here did not work. Anyways, I would like to dedicate this chapter to her for being a wonderful person and letting me use her drawing (which I think fits the story perfectly)! Thank you, thank you, thank you! And thanks to you too, for reading :) Please read and review!_**

_**Disclaimer: Do I still need one? I obviously don't own Kuroshitsuji.**_

_**P.S. I promise this will be the last chapter that follows the anime this closely. Sorry if it seems a little dry. Also, as much as I adore Pluto, he will not be a part of this plot. This chapter however, is the last missing piece. **_

* * *

On a chilly autumn morning, the master announced that we would be going on a vacation. Of course, the basis of this holiday was to seize land and turn it into a resort for the Queen, but what else would you expect from the young master? After all, he did abide by the old 'business before pleasure' adage. Accompanied by the other servants, Mey-Rin, Finny, Bard and Tanaka, we loaded two carriages worth of luggage, and headed off to a village called Houndsworth. It was an area which was known for bear-baiting. However, since the sport has been outlawed years ago, a new form of the game, dog-baiting, was still being practiced. As requested by Her Majesty, the master was sent to end this, under the pretense that he was there to build a resort. Although he claimed to bring the others along because he was worried they would destroy the mansion while he was away, I knew that the master's kind heart wanted to indulge them a bit.

The carriages pulled up to a leafless tree with rusted dog collars fastened on the rotting branches, and the skeletal remains of various animals sprawled on the ground. A ghastly, wooden sign beneath it had the words "Welcome to Houndsworth' hastily painted on it. The sheer simplicity of the name made me uneasy. There was something definitely uncanny about this place, besides the fact that these people worshipped dogs enough to name their entire village after them. If the dog collars signified the amount of dogs living here, then this surely will not be an enjoyable trip.

As we rode through the peaceful, if not odd village, I cringed at the sight of so many dogs crawling around. Everywhere I looked, I saw the wagging of tails, or slobber flying about as they starved for their masters for attention. I had a natural distaste for dogs. They were loud and savage things, stirring trouble wherever they went. I grimaced when I saw one approaching the carriage. Swiftly, I lifted the reins, forcing the horses to pick up speed.

Lord Henry Barrymore owned the vast majority of the land in this village; property that had been passed down through generations. The young master was to simply persuade the noble into selling his land for more than a reasonable price. We made arrangements to stay at his mansion while he and the master negotiated business.

When we arrived at his estate, we were politely greeted by his maid, Angela. Something about her seemed feigned as she warmly welcomed us into the building. Her aura created a sense of fallacious security, and I knew from that moment that she was not human. I felt rather nostalgic meeting her, as if I had crossed paths with her kind before. She had an air of refined grace, a beauty most humans fawned over. I had yet to figure out what she was, but at least she wasn't another one of those insufferable reapers. Still, while I was able to see through her finely crafted act, the others gravitated towards her, deceived.

She escorted the master and me to Lord Barrymore's workroom. As she led us through the long labyrinth of corridors, I couldn't help but notice the way she was constantly skimming over the master's face. While he remained oblivious to this, I began to watch her carefully. Was there something she wanted from my young master? I had an unprovoked hostility towards her. It seemed as if she were leading us into an inevitable trap. Of course it was impossible for me to decipher everything so quickly, however, I sensed a large amount of danger from this village. It was best if we finished this quickly, and got the master out of here.

After stepping in to stop Lord Barrymore's distasteful show of punishment, he and the master sat down to discuss business. Angela took her time preparing the tea. She had trouble controlling the her unsteady hands, causing the china to clink against each other, allowing drops of tea to spill from the cup. I was getting slightly irritated by her transparent act, and so I decided it was time to help her serve the tea. She smiled politely, eyed me suspiciously, and handed over the crockery.

The master and Lord Barrymore argued about the price of land for a good few hours, and I, though eager to leave this place, patiently waited for him to eventually accept the offer. Naturally, he declined, raving on about something referred to as the demon hound's curse. It was a ridiculous notion, which piqued the master's interest. And so, much to my dismay, he declared that we stay in Houndsworth for a couple days.

We retired for the day, and I silently helped the master into his nightgown. He sat down on the olive-tone armchair, and began reading _The Count of Monte Cristo_. When he was engrossed enough by the novel, I took the liberty of folding his clothes, preparing his outfit for the next day, and making some Chamomile tea for him. I added another teaspoon of the herb, knowing that the master needed it. He always had troubles falling, and staying, asleep.

"Sebastian," he called, tearing his eyes from the page he was on.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I just remembered when we entered Houndsworth... how you went off about dogs," he stated impishly.

"What of it, my Lord?" I replied, ignoring his ever slight, childish pout. He was hoping I would answer without having to straightforwardly ask the question.

"Nothing, I suppose. Although, it was quite interesting seeing that expression of yours. What exactly is your aversion towards dogs?"

"Whatever do you mean my Lord?"

"You looked annoyed," he said, smirking.

"Of course, my Lord. As I said earlier, while I do love the company of felines, I am not so fond of dogs," I replied curtly. Why exactly are humans so enamored by them? They were such troublesome, foolish creatures who blindly followed their masters without expecting anything in return. I couldn't recall experienced a bad encounter with them, not even in my earliest memories. Still, I disliked them, my hatred increasing tenfold when I was reborn by my master's side. I presumed that it was a human emotion I was feeling, and much like most emotions, they were unexplainable.

He sighed, "I see."

"Was that all, my Lord?" I asked, intrigued to see where this was headed. Was there something else the master was curious about?

"No..." he hesitated, "Is the tea ready?"

I nodded and poured a warm cup for him. Handing it gingerly, I met with his peevish glare.

"Does something displease you, my Lord?" I asked coyly.

"Nothing at all," was his quick reply. He turned away, suddenly finding his lost interest in the book. I smiled and tucked away the china set.

There was a rap at the door.

"Come in," master called, tiredly.

"What is it that you need? The master is preparing for bed," I informed Angela as she waltzed through the door. She ignored me, her eyes once again, falling upon my master's face. She took a very delicate step beside the mater's chair. Then, with a timid voice, implored my master to leave. Of course, the young master was very stubborn, and would hear nothing of it. She continued pester him about it, going on about how the demon hound punished those who defied Lord Barrymore's rules.

"I fear for your safety, Lord Phantomhive. What if it comes after you next?" she asked, eyes never leaving his. What a stupid question. As if I would ever let the master get in the way of _too much_ danger. She was getting ahead of herself, wasn't she? What, marching in his room at this hour, and using such an informal tone when speaking to him. She had no business to tend to here, anyway. Was she not the sole maid of the household? Shouldn't she be off looking after her own master? I was capable enough to take care of the young master, without her needless concern.

"You don't need to worry about me," the master said smugly, eyes flickering to meet mine. Angela looked over and finally noticed my presence. For a brief moment, I saw a faintly enraged blush creep onto her face, as if I was somehow listening-in on an intimate conversation between the two.

"Now if that is all, please, escort yourse-" I said, when and unexpected howl from outside interrupted me. The master's knowing glance told me to draw the curtains and see what it was. I peered outside the window, the master appearing by my side. We watched, looking for any sign of movement, but a blanket of darkness had already enveloped the village. In the distance, I could vaguely make out the motion of a dog, bathed in a phosphorescent glow, running through the village. We rushed outside, and I could practically see the master's mind turning in motion. As the intelligent person he rightfully prized himself to be, he had already uncovered what had taken place.

We followed the footprints the dog had left behind, which lead us into the heart of the village. The villagers were huddled together, muttering quietly to each other. In the center, lay a dead villager on the ground: his mangled cadaver twisting in an unsightly fashion, marred by a dog's teethmarks. Lord Barrymore appeared before us, forcefully pushing his way to the body. They identified the villager as a man named James, who had broken the rule of having more than the number of dogs allowed. Barrymore dismissed the villagers, allowing the corpse to be taken away. When he saw us, he commended us on our luck.

"I was sure the demon hound was going after one of you for disrupting the village's peace," He exclaimed, trailing after the crowd. Of course, the master dismissed the threat. He was much too exhausted to worry.

"Sebastian," he yawned softly. "I'm retiring for now."

Nodding, I lifted him up, ignoring his order to put him down. I carried him back to the mansion; chuckling at the fact that despite his protests, he had fallen asleep before we even reached it.

In the morning, I was surprised to enter the master's room to see that he was already awake. He was standing by the windowsill, his wrinkled nightgown making him look smaller than usual. I approached him silently, observing how he was staring outside the window, somewhat distractedly. Curiously, I glanced outside to see what had taken over his mind. Aside from the bland scenery, and the unkempt backyard, the only other visible things were the Phantomhive servants. Bard was leaning against the wall, cigarette in his hand, staring off into the distance, while Mey-Rin tugged idly at her hair. Finny was lying flat on his back, staring glossy-eyed at the sky. Even Tanaka was present, drinking his tea absentmindedly.

"They saw it, didn't they?" he said softly, turning to me. His eyes hiding behind his tousled hair.

"Are you referring to the body? Yes, my Lord, they were present at the scene."

"Is that why they're moping around like a bunch of fools?" His brows furrowed ever so slightly.

"Concerned about them, my Lord?" I asked, trying to suppress the urge to smile.

"Of course not...That lot of simpletons. My only concern is the sort of impression they're giving off. We can't have them looking like that when we're supposed to be on vacation. Do something about it, Sebastian," he demanded, a blush spread across his face for being found out. Of course he would never admit to caring about them, prideful as he was. I felt something tug at the corner of my mouth.

"I will speak to them right away." I declared, dismissing myself.

"Sebastian, one more thing... I'm hungry. Prepare some lunch or something...for everybody," he added. I managed to hold in my laugh at his attempt at being casual.

I replied with the usual 'yes my lord' and headed to the kitchen. There, I found Angela sitting down on a stool, slowly peeling potatoes. She already had a large pot full of skinned ones, yet there was another bucket of potatoes waiting for her. I walked in silently, hoping to make simple sandwiches without intruding too much. I nodded in her direction, acknowledging her presence, but she merely sighed. Without looking up, she asked,

"Did you need something here, Sebastian?" My skin crawled at the way she said my name.

"I'm here to prepare a meal for the young master, is all. Please, don't worry about it, I will stay out of your way," I replied courteously.

"Is that so...ah, yes. Did Lord Phantomhive sleep well last night?" she questioned.

"After all the fuss was done, he managed to fall asleep rather quickly," I said as I hurriedly scanned the contents of the cupboards. I pulled out a loaf of bread and began cutting off the crusts. Then I headed to the refrigerator to grab the remaining ingredients.

"That's wonderful to hear! Oh my, are those all for him?" she asked, motioning towards the bread slices.

"It appears the master would like to cheer up his servants after their apparent shock from last night." I explained.

"Oh how kind of him. Lord Phantomhive...He seems like such a gentle master...such a good boy." Angela remarked. I could hear the knife speeding up as potato skins fell to the floor.

"Indeed he seems so," I agreed, busying myself by spreading mayonnaise on the bread.

"It would be such a pity if something were to happen to such a charming little boy..." she trailed. I stopped, bread knife in mid air, collected myself before I calmly proclaimed,

"I assure you, I would never allow my master into any trouble."

"He's such a good boy, a very good boy. He must feel lonely, what with nobody who loves him by his side. And so young, too..."

"You are mistaken. I will continue to be at the young master's side until the very end."

"Is that so? How sure are you of that?" she scoffed. Ah, so she was trying to get a rise out of me as well. I collected myself, and, in the sweetest tone I could muster vowed,

"Absolutely. He is my young master, and I shall never leave his side."

"You answer too boldly," she spat, throwing the remaining potatoes in the pot. She stood up to run her hands under the sink on the other side of the room.

Perhaps she was right. After all, many things could happen between now and the time the master finally reaches his revenge. However, I had no intention of leaving the young master. I held his life in the palm of my hands, swearing to protect it until this life lost its purpose. Even without that order, I knew I would not be able to leave this little one alone. The master's contract has rendered me powerless. He has created one that binds every fibre of my being to him, and the shackles which I forced upon him have somehow enslaved me as well. He is entitled to me, just as I am to him. He was mine. Mind, body, soul; he is mine.

"Please excuse me," I said to no one, as I quickly packed everything up and searched for the others.

Angela decided to tag along with the Phantomhive household, leading us to Barrymore's private beach, much to my master's discomfort. After all, he wasn't fond of swimming. While everyone else was playing in the water, evidently no longer troubled by the murder, the master decided to sit by himself under a tall parasol. He was reading the same book from last night, also unfazed.

"Care for a swim, my Lord?" I teased, knowing the master had never really learned to swim. Instead, he ignored me and said,

"Sebastian, there is still work to be done." Then signaling me towards him, he whispered,

"I recalled seeing a fairly large dog skull in Barrymore's room. Take it and see if its teeth marks match that on the dead body. Then, look into Barrymore's private study and see if you can uncover any projections, or cut outs of dog-like figures. After that, find the phosphoric powder he's hiding. Report back to me later. Now, go."

"Yes my Lord," I replied, but sensing Angela's gaze I added, "But first, allow me." I stood up straight and abruptly pushed the parasol's handle deeper into the sand, blocking Angela's view.

"What was that for?" he demanded.

"Nothing, my Lord. Just making sure you're comfortable and that your delicate skin doesn't burn from exposure to the sun," I grinned and went to work.

"You're mighty eager, aren't you? Despite hating dogs so much," master exclaimed.

"I think it's best to wrap things up quickly," I called without looking back. I was somewhat uneasy leaving the master behind with Angela. Still, I was simply a pawn in my master's games, waiting to be moved. His orders were absolute, and so I left him as instructed.

Lord Barrymore was a very disorganized human. Otherwise, finding evidence against him would have taken less time. I was able to uncover what the master mentioned earlier, and I did as I was told to check the bite marks. As he always, he was right: they were a perfect match. After finding a projector, the powder, and cut outs of dog heads, I heard the cries of the villagers. I went towards their shouts, only to find the master chained to a wall. The other servants were tied up to a post, and Lord Barrymore was yelling something about the Queen leaving the village alone. There was a dead dog laying on the ground, also restrained. It was James' dog, the sixth, illegal dog which I recalled seeing before.

The master, in his pompous demeanor, continued to berate Lord Barrymore for resorting to such tricks to control his village, knowing I would save him in time. Disgruntled by the master's refusal to give in, Barrymore set his dogs loose on him. The dogs threw themselves at him, their ravenous claws ready to sink themselves into the master's fragile skin.

_'Yet another reason why I detest these animals,' _I thought, as I watched them creep closer to the boy. I waited, holding myself back for an order. But the dogs were so much closer to him, only a second away from ripping him apart.

'_He's in danger!'_ my mind screamed, and without realizing it, something had already pulled me forward. I had to protect him. I wouldn't allow these dogs to hurt him again.

... _Again_? Unbidden, I was already in front of the boy, subduing the dogs from further attacking him. And, in that moment, a faint, whispering memory flashed before my eyes, vanishing as swiftly as it came- _It was very similar picture of dogs attacking, fangs bared. The situation was nearly identical, aside from the fact that these dogs were entirely different from the ones before me. I had done this before. The setting was different, a forest of some sort, but this feeling, this need, this rage, was all still the same. Moreover, the one I was protecting was_-

"You're late," the master commented furiously, pulling me back to the present.

"It won't happen again, my Lord," I replied, startled.

I had good reason to kill these dogs in front of me. However, knowing that they were severely maltreated, and that the reason we were in Houndsworth to begin with was to save them, I allowed them to live. I had no intention of touching those filthy creatures, anyway. It would take too much time to wash off the foul odour from my hands. So I simply erased any training they received from Barrymore, allowing them to start over. Maybe that would make them seem more agreeable.

When the crowd hushed, I exposed Lord Barrymore as the one who had been committing the murders.

"The demon hound's shadow was an illusion, made by this projector. The glowing dog was merely a dog who had been bathed in phosphorus powder. I even took the liberty to see if this skull found in Lord Barrymore's room matched the ones on James' body," I explained to the villagers. Angrily, they took him away, locking him up in a cell.

I unchained the young master and the others, and watched silently as Finny mourned over James' dog. Mey-Rin decided to comfort Finny, as the young master took his leave. He turned his head slightly to look at me, giving me a nod which meant I was to follow him. I wasn't sure why, but when the master did so, I felt a the same hunger as I did before. My mind wandered to the scene earlier, to my hesitation, to the fleeting illusion. I tried to recall it, to regain access of that memory. Instead, all I could see was the young master: his stubborn back walking away from me.

When I put the master to bed that night, he announced that we would take our leave tomorrow afternoon. I, of course, was more than willing to go home. The stench of wet dog was starting to seep into my skin. I was afraid even the young master would smell like them for days. I will just have to scrub him a thousand times over, to get rid of the smell.

In the morning, we reloaded the carriages, Angela politely sending us off.

"I'll have to visit the estate one day," she said cheerfully. While normally, I would not have cared, there was something threatening behind her smile. She may have deceived everyone else, but I knew I wanted her as far away from the young master as possible.

"I don't think that would be such a good idea," I warned. "You seem to have a talent for wrapping lesser beings around your finger." I smiled back. She made no effort to reply, and so I hoisted the reins. I looked back to see her still waving at us in the distance.

"Soon," I heard her whisper to herself. If only I knew how soon it would be.


End file.
